


Uncle Charlie

by VTsuion



Series: The Mysterious Mr. Jeeves [5]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: Backstory, Developing Relationship, Gen, M/M, Meet the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: I squared the shoulders and strode to the door...Bertie Wooster has confronted his Aunt Agatha after the events of The Mating Season, and relapsed into the parlour, only to be met by the butler, Jeeves's Uncle Charlie, bearing a glass of the needful and a few words of insight about Jeeves.
Relationships: Reginald Jeeves & Bertram "Bertie" Wooster, Reginald Jeeves/Bertram "Bertie" Wooster
Series: The Mysterious Mr. Jeeves [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860103
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Uncle Charlie

After the initial furor died down, I hastened a retreat and collapsed into the first comfortable chair I encountered out of sight and hearing of the pack of bloodthirsty aunts. It could have gone better, but it certainly could have all gone much worse under the circs. I’d held up remarkably well, if I said so myself, faced with the uproar of no less than six aged dames confronted with the reality that I was not in fact Gussie Fink-Nottle, but Bertram Wooster, and that the unfortunate fellow claiming to be yours truly had in fact been the Fink-Nottle himself.

The worst of it had, of course, been my Aunt Agatha - not the generous kindly aunt, but the glass chewing, nephew eating one - who had accused me of letting down her already greatly depressed expectations and called me every name in the book besides. Dame Daphne Winkworth - one of Aunt Agatha’s old cronies and the most formidable of my hosts - had chimed in that at least this revelation meant it wasn’t Aunt A’s nephew who had spent the whole time dogging after some actress, though from her tone it sounded like a close call.

You can very well imagine that after such an onslaught, the only thing I could do was ring for a drink - a stiff one. It wasn’t long before Jeeves’s Uncle Charlie Silversmith - the butler - appeared with a glass of the needful. I fell on it, doubtless with no little resemblance to the man of greater necessity to whom Sir Philip Sydney had given his cask, my enthusiasm barely damped by the admittedly discouraging feeling of the stern butler’s eyes regarding me with what could hardly be called approval.

He gave a quiet cough, a little throatier than Jeeves gives when he desires to interrupt. “Pardon me, sir, but I could not help but overhear that you are in fact Mr. Wooster.”

I had just tipped back my glass and was feeling significantly fortified by the time I had a chance to reply, “Rather! I mean to say, yes, I’m he.”

He was looking at me not so differently from when I had been masquerading as Gussie and he had discovered that my supposed man, Meadows - actually another pal of mine, Catsmeat Potter-Pirbright - was engaged to his daughter, Queenie, though now with rather less exultation and more wariness, but still with a familial sort of glint in his eye.

“Jeeves speaks most highly of you, sir.”

I felt a bit of a glow even though it was second-hand information. It’s hard to tell what Jeeves thinks of anything, and sometimes I don’t wonder what he thinks of me.

“Oh, right-o!” I exclaimed, not at all sure that was the right thing to say. “Jeeves is your nephew, isn’t he?”

“Not strictly, sir. He has been kind enough to consider me something of an uncle, but I have merely encouraged him in his pursuit of domestic work.”

That came as a surprise to me. “You mean you didn’t bounce him on your knee when he was a babe or anything like that?”

“No, sir. He was a young man when I met him.”

“But Jeeves said-”

“If you’ll pardon my saying, sir. Jeeves has always had something of an unfortunate habit of stretching the truth, if I may use the phrase. Would I be incorrect in presuming it was he who suggested you visit the Hall under the name of Mr. Fink-Nottle?”

I admitted that he had, a little reluctantly. “But no one else could have thought of anything better,” I attempted.

“Indeed, sir,” Uncle Charlie said, and he sounded like Jeeves at his most disbelieving when he said it. “I confess, I was surprised to find that Mr. Fink-Nottle was the man that Jeeves spoke so highly of. I have often thought that he would benefit from a somewhat more principled employer.”

I shifted uneasily. I hoped I held up to scrutiny better than Gussie, but I don’t think anyone had ever called me “principled” before, and I doubted old Silversmith was going to start the trend now. Still, I tried. “I do what I can, what?”

“Very good, sir.” The note of doubt came through loud and clear. But he continued, “However, though Jeeves has had other respectable employers, I have never known him to be happier than he is in your employ.”

“I say!” I said. I do everything I can for the chap to make him comfortable, but one never knows, and it’s hard not to wonder why a remarkable cove like him didn’t seek out a more respectable employer than Bertram W.

“Will that be all, sir?” Uncle Charlie asked.

“Oh! Yes, thank you!”

For some reason, the man seemed to unbend a little. “Very good, sir,” he said, gave a respectful nod, and he may have even been smiling a tad as he took his leave.


End file.
